Georgia Summer

by Heather Colleen

  ✽✽✽

  It was almost three o-clock when Georgia finished her book. Enthusiastically snapping the book shut, she stood up and stretched, feeling the blood rush to her fingers and toes. No matter how many times she reread the book, “Pride and Prejudice,” it never became redundant. Placing the book on her nightstand, she then grabbed her empty dishes and went downstairs to the kitchen. As she loaded her plate and glass into the dishwasher, her dad walked in.

  “What'd you read today?” he asked. He sat down at his usual spot at the dining table and began to pull on his cowboy boots.

  “Pride and Prejudice,” Georgia answered, her voice sounding distant as she envisioned her beloved characters again from her favorite book.

  “Ah, yes. How many times have I seen you with your nose buried in that book?” He chuckled as he pulled on his other boot.

  “I know. It never gets old.” Georgia smiled. She relaxed and leaned against the counter. Maybe her dad had gotten over their fighting and wasn’t angry with her anymore.

  “So, you goin’ over to see Virginia and the girls?” He glanced at her as he stood up and tucked his shirt in.

  Georgia scrambled for the right words. “Um, maybe. I mean, probably.” She shrugged her shoulders. She hoped she sounded convincing. It wasn’t an outright lie if she didn’t commit completely to going over to her sister’s, right?

  “That’s good. I’m sure the girls would love to see you.”

  Georgia felt the guilt rising in her throat again. She nodded stiffly in agreement. She had missed the twins, but she had the rest of the summer to spend with them once Landon left, she reasoned to herself. A few days of not seeing their aunt wouldn’t kill them, or Virginia.

  “Well, I’m off.” Her dad donned his hat.

  “Okay. Have a good evening at work, dad.” She followed him to the front door.

  Her dad paused in the doorway and turned to look back at her. For a moment he looked as if he wanted to say something more serious, perhaps an apology, or at least a heartfelt explanation for what he had said to her during their fights.

  Georgia waited, biting her lip.

  Instead, her dad cleared his throat. “I’ll see you later, Georg.” He turned and went down the steps, his boots clopping against the cement as he walked over to his car.

  Georgia gently pushed the front door shut again. She leaned against the door, resting the back of her head against it as she felt a wave of guilt roll over her, followed by another wave of exhilaration as she thought of Landon.

  Taking a deep breath, Georgia walked briskly into the kitchen. She checked the time. It was ten to three o’clock. Landon had said he would be there later this afternoon, but when was that exactly? Choosing to err on the side of caution, Georgia dashed upstairs.

  In her bathroom, she brushed out her long hair, choosing to leave it down this time instead of up. She then applied a coat of mascara on her lashes. As she set the tube of mascara down on the sink, her eyes roamed over to her toothbrush. Georgia held her hand over her mouth and exhaled. Her breath smelled like mayo. She frowned. She hurriedly squeezed some toothpaste onto her toothbrush and brushed her teeth, walking over to her closet as she scoured her mouth.

  Gazing at her closet, Georgia wondered if she should change her outfit. She dropped her hand from her toothbrush and pushed the hangers aside as she looked at the few dresses she owned. She pulled one of her favorites off of a hanger. She had only worn it once before at her freshman orientation last year.

  Holding the hanger up to her shoulders, her toothbrush still hanging out of her mouth, she admired the dress' design. It was a cream-colored dress with an antique rose print. Still holding the dress, she went back to the bathroom and rinsed the toothpaste out of her mouth. Then, taking off her clothes, she slipped the dress over her head, the light chiffon fabric gliding effortlessly down over her hips.

  Georgia stood in front of the mirror. It was the perfect summery dress with its floral print. She especially liked the way the neckline scooped down in the front and back, revealing her pale, smooth skin. The dress was gathered more tightly at the waistline, emphasizing her slim waist and slender figure. Georgia smiled at herself in the mirror, hoping that Landon would like it, too.

  The doorbell rang abruptly, startling Georgia. Millie quickly sounded the alarm, howling as if the world were ending. Georgia heard Millie race to the front door, her toenails frenetically scratching against the wood floor as she continued to bark. Georgia hastily grabbed her sandals and headed downstairs, her bare feet thumping against the wooden steps. She knew it was him before she even opened the door. Georgia grabbed the doorknob, trying to suppress the slapstick grin that she knew she had on her face. But as she swung open the door and looked up at Landon, her exuberance was quickly replaced by nervousness.

  She already knew full well how handsome Landon was, but his strikingly attractive looks never failed to catch her off guard. As he stood there in her doorway, practically casting a shadow over her with his tall height, she felt suddenly intimidated by him. She felt the butterflies flutter in her stomach as he gazed down at her attentively with that barely-there smile, his steel blue eyes glinting.

  As she took in the sight of him, she noticed he was holding a bouquet of flowers, wrapped lightly in pink tissue. “Oh!” she exclaimed, admiring the freshly cut gardenias.

  “For you, Georgia Summer,” Landon said, holding out the bouquet to her.

  Georgia felt the butterflies in her stomach fly away as she gratefully took the flowers from his hands, marveling at their perfect, white petals. She leaned down to smell them, inhaling their sweet scent as Landon watched her. She peeked up at Landon through her lashes, still holding the bouquet up to her face.

  “Do you like them?” He sounded pleased as he watched her.

  “I love them.” She dipped her head down again to smell them. “You really shouldn’t have brought me these,” she murmured.

  “I wanted to. They’re from my mother’s garden,” Landon explained.

  Georgia looked up at him curiously.

  “My mom said I could take them. She knows, don't worry," he explained quickly.

  Georgia smiled. “That’s so thoughtful of you, Landon. Thank you. And thank your mother for me too, please. They’re gorgeous.” She opened the door a little wider. “Why don’t you come in for a moment while I put these in water?” She turned around and walked off to the kitchen, her chiffon dress floating behind her. She heard Landon shut the door behind her and follow her in.

  In the kitchen, Georgia carefully unwrapped the gardenias from their pink wrapping. She then grabbed a glass vase from a cupboard and filled it with water. Arranging the blooms in the water, she stepped back to admire them again.

  “I’m glad you like them,” Landon said.

  Georgia turned to look at him, her dress swinging.

  He was leaning against the doorway, watching her.

  Georgia picked up the vase and set it in the center of the island. “They’re perfect.” She reached out to feel the smoothness of one of the flower’s petals.

  Landon came up behind her and kissed her gently on the neck, just below her ear. His soft lips on her skin were enough to make her nearly swoon with pleasure. “You’re perfect,” he said softly.

  Georgia giggled. She knew she was nowhere near perfect. “I’m not,” she insisted, turning around to face him.

  He gazed down at her, a small smile on his lips as he looked at her dress. “I like this.” He reached over and ran his finger down the side of her waist, tracing the shape of the dress.

  Georgia held her breath, relishing his touch. “Thank you,” she said breathlessly, almost in a whisper.

  Landon took a step back. “Shall we head off?”

  Georgia nodded eagerly, but then hesitated as she glanced over at the flowers. “Actually,” she said, still looking at the bouquet.

  Landon watched her, listening intently.

  “Do you mind if I run this upstairs to m
y room?” She picked up the vase as she spoke.

  Landon shook his head. “Not at all.” He looked pleased that she liked the flowers so much.

  Georgia took the vase and quickly, but carefully, hurried up the stairs to her room, where she set the vase down on her bureau. She admired the flowers for a moment. While it was true that she wanted them all to herself, she also didn’t want to raise any more questions with her dad by leaving the fresh bouquet in the kitchen for him to find later.

  Hurrying back down the stairs, Georgia went into the kitchen where Landon was waiting. She then squatted down and gave Millie a quick hug. She could feel Landon’s eyes watching her as she kissed Millie on the nose. “Let's go,” Georgia said as she stood up.

  As they walked down the porch steps, Georgia saw Landon’s navy blue pickup parked right out front. Mrs. Sullivan was sure to have a field day, but Georgia didn’t care today. She glanced over at Mrs. Sullivan’s house, silently daring her to come outside to see the sheriff’s daughter with Landon Young. Seeing no movement over at her house, Georgia turned her attention back to Landon.

  Landon held the passenger door open for her and helped her in, his touch secure. He then shut her door and came around. As Georgia buckled up her seat belt, she noted how surprisingly clean his truck was.

  Landon opened up the driver door and climbed in. “Ready?” he asked, slamming his door shut.

  “Yes,” Georgia answered, beaming with excitement. Landon pulled away from the curb, and they were off down Magnolia Lane.

  Chapter 25

  To the Trace

  Georgia looked out the window, watching the all-too-familiar scenery pass by as they drove down Main Street. But somehow, everything looked different today. She couldn’t quite describe it, but everything looked newer, brighter, and more exciting now with Landon. She sighed happily, letting her eyes wander back to the interior of his truck. Her gaze roamed across the dashboard and to the rearview mirror. She squinted as the light reflected from something shiny hanging from the mirror.

  Georgia looked at it, letting her eyes refocus. A chain necklace with two rectangular pieces hanging off of it swung back and forth from the rearview mirror. “What’s that?” She reached out to hold the swinging necklace, grasping it in her hand.

  Landon glanced over. “Those? They’re my dog tags.”

  “Dog tags?” Georgia asked, thinking of the circular one that Millie wore on her collar. “Why would you need them?” She looked closer at the engraved lettering on the tag. It read:

  YOUNG

  L. D. O NEG

  Georgia gazed at the lettering, attempting to make sense of it. “L.D. O Neg?” she asked, sounding puzzled.

  “Those are my initials, followed by my blood type,” Landon explained. He turned the wheel left at the end of Main Street, driving towards the edge of town.

  “What’s your middle name?” She ran her finger over the engraved letters.

  “David. After my dad,” Landon answered, not looking at her.

  Georgia bit her lip, watching his face for a moment as he concentrated on the road.

  He stolidly looked straight ahead, unwavering in his emotions.

  “Landon David Young,” Georgia said softly, more to herself than to him. She liked the way it sounded. Strong, like him. “Well, Landon David Young,” she began, her voice lighter as she tried to make him smile. “You’re in good company.”

  Landon glanced over at her, his eyebrow raised questioningly.

  “I’m O negative, too.”

  Landon looked at her, bewilderment written on his face. “Really?” He sounded dubious.

  Georgia nodded. “Really.” She was pleased that she could surprise him.

  “It’s one of the rarest blood types, you know.”

  “Only six or seven percent of the population, to be exact,” Georgia clarified.

  “That’s crazy.” Landon shook his head in disbelief.

  “I know,” Georgia said softly. She turned her gaze back to the road.

  It was unusual that the two of them shared the same, rare blood type. But then again, everything that had happened between them had been somewhat unusual, and even fortuitous. From Dr. Young’s death which had brought them together, to Landon saving her from Jace, to where they were now in Landon’s truck, realizing they both shared the same, uncommon blood type, their paths had found ways to cross, time and again.

  “Why do you have to wear those tags anyways?” Georgia’s eyes drifted back to the necklace, watching it swing like a pendulum.

  Landon pulled onto the highway, quickly looking behind him to make sure the lane was clear. “It’s a means of identification, in case I get wounded or killed,” he answered straightforwardly.

  Georgia felt her breathing still. Of course, she knew there were inherent risks of being in the military, let alone being over in Afghanistan. But somehow, in the safe, sleepy town of Willow Creek, it was easy to forget just how dangerous the rest of the world was. Even when she watched the news at night with her dad, the reality of the rest of the world never felt quite real or tangible. To her, it was just a story unfolding far away. Georgia leaned back in her seat and looked over at Landon again, new appreciation in her eyes.

  To anyone that could see Landon now, he was just a kid driving a pickup down a lonely road in the South. Perhaps he was a farmer’s son, helping with the summer harvest, or maybe he was home from college for the summer like Georgia. Most people would never guess that he was actually a Marine stationed over in Afghanistan, or that he wore dog tags under his uniform so they could identify his body if he was killed, or that he put his life on the line every day. Landon’s world was a foreign world to most civilians, including Georgia.

  “What it’s like over there, Landon?” she asked, still watching him.

  Landon glanced over at her. “Nothing like here.” He took a hand off the wheel and rubbed the back of his neck.

  Georgia admired his perfectly sculpted jaw line, her eyes moving down to his flexed biceps as he gripped the steering wheel with one hand.

  “It’s hot. Desolate. May as well be no man’s land.” Landon shook his head. “It makes anywhere else look like…utopia.” His fingers gripped the steering wheel harder as he reflected on his time in the Middle East.

  He had spent months preparing for his deployment to Afghanistan, and yet nothing could have prepared him for what he would witness there. It was confusing fighting a war that had seemingly no end in sight, with the people you were trying to protect also trying to kill you. It wasn’t unusual for concerned Afghan parents to bring their sick children to their clinic one day, only to shoot at them the next. Or to see the very same children that would ask him and his fellow soldiers for American candy one day that would, the very next day, throw a homemade bomb at their encampment. On a day-to-day basis there, a lot of it just didn’t make sense.

  “Why did you do it?” Georgia asked, confused by his answer. “Why did you enlist?”

  Landon sighed. He looked over at Georgia, her dark blue eyes brimming with curiosity. He had never told anyone the real reason why he joined the Marines. Georgia was the first to ask him, the first to show genuine interest.

  “I guess I saw the military as my last chance. My last chance to get things right.” He shrugged his shoulders.

  “To get things right? What do you mean?” Georgia pressed, hungry for answers. She gazed at him intently, desperately wanting to understand him.

  “Well, you probably already know that I didn’t have much of a reputation in high school…” Landon’s voice trailed off as he remembered his high school days, and what had happened after graduation. “I made some mistakes back then, mistakes I can’t ever take back. But the worst part is that I really let my parents down…especially my dad.” Landon swallowed hard, surprised that he was actually finally telling someone this after all these years. He looked over at Georgia in the passenger seat, her deep, ocean blue eyes full of compassion. What was she doing to him? What spell d
id she have him under? Landon cleared his throat and went on, “Did you know my dad served in the Vietnam War?”

  Georgia nodded. She thought briefly of the letter, remembering Dr. Young’s description of Agent Orange as ‘a slow-moving death.’

  “My dad and I were never very close, and after he and my mom separated, we hardly spoke.” Landon’s eyes were pained as he reflected on their distant relationship. “In a way, I thought by following in my dad’s footsteps, I could make him proud.” He paused for a moment. “I enlisted about four years ago, and every day since has been an opportunity to make it up to him, even though he’s gone now.” Landon took his hand off the wheel and rubbed the back of his neck again, loosening the tension that had built up there.

  He looked ahead at the long open road, thinking of his dad. Overhead, there were wide blue skies for as far as the eye could see. He wondered if his dad was up there in the heavens, looking down on him now. His thoughts drifted back to the letter his dad had written him, the last bit of contact he would ever have with him.

  Georgia suddenly spoke, interrupting his thoughts, “I know I didn’t know your dad very well, but I do know he was very proud of you.”

  Landon looked over at her, locking his intense gaze on hers for a moment. “How do you know that?”

  “Your dad told me about you at the diner.” Georgia thought back to her first week of work at Duke’s. Though her interaction with Dr. Young had been fairly brief, she had gleaned a surprising amount of knowledge from him during that short conversation. “He said you had grown into a fine young man,” Georgia said.

  Landon looked at her hopefully, a small smile forming at the corners of his mouth. “Really?”

  Georgia looked at him. She didn’t see a Marine, or even a young man in front of her, but rather a boy, a boy that only wanted to please his father. “Yes. Really,” she affirmed, smiling at Landon.

  Landon didn’t say anything and gazed straight ahead. His barely-there smile lit up his entire face as he thought of his dad and how he had openly expressed pride in him to someone else, and not just in the letter he had written to Landon.